the light's on but nobody's home || l.s

i

louis

that sunday evening was like any other day, dull and mind-numbing. louis could do anything to fill the boredom that fills his room, but instead he chose not to. not because he's lazy, but because he had no motivation to do anything, really, despite how bored he was.

he chewed over calling zayn to hang out but he decided that it was too late and zayn was probably out there living his life with some posh loquacious people.

sighing, louis grabs his jacket, ignoring his compelling phone that sits right next to it, and heads out to go for a walk. what happened to the unmotivated louis earlier? the weather is nice, which is surprising, considering the country's reputation for being rainy almost every day.

he hugs his jacket tight as the chilly breeze brushes past him, making him shiver a little. he should've worn a coat. what the fuck happened to the not-so-breezy weather just minutes ago? hell, it's the UK, what was he thinking.

"i should go back," he says to himself. "but i'm already near the park. what should i do, mister tree?" he asks the unfazed tree, oblivious of a certain someone watching him from a distance.

louis decides to sit on a nearby bench, and meditate for a bit, just to clear his mind from the shit load of assignments he has to complete which were due in a few days.

he hears the rustling sound of crunched up leaves and turns around in one swift motion. has someone been watching him? surely not, it's ass o'clock in the night, who the hell would be up at this time? well, maybe housewives caring for their children, or college students staying up late to finish their assignments (which he should be doing, but let's not talk about that), or maybe teens who can't sleep at this hour and restless parents who are too exhausted to get a good shut-eye.

or maybe there's someone like him who's having a boring evening and decided to take a walk in the park.

louis looks around and calls out a half-shout-half-whispered "hello" but gets no response in return. "must be a squirrel," he convinces himself, ignoring his brain that's been giving him horrid thoughts of the possibility of being kidnapped or haunted by ghosts. which he doesn't believe in, by the way. ghosts don't scare him. nope. definitely not. never in a million years.

he decides that it's probably best to head back home when suddenly a tall figure, probably 5 inches taller than him, walks towards him. he couldn't register the figure's face at first as all he could see was an alarming tall and gray figure.

so maybe ghosts are real.

and then he sees the figure's face, which by the way, isn't just a figure, because this figure happens to be a person. a man. a good looking man.

wow. louis stops breathing for a moment.

he's got unruly curly hair, chocolate and soft he's almost convinced it's a wig. soft delicate features that were almost too perfect to be authentic. his lips were crimson and undeniably sinful. and his eyes, even in this dark night, they illuminate the night with it's greenness. it's a mixture of an alluring jade with emerald. a breathtaking sight louis could watch till he dies.

"lovely night, isn't it?" the unnamed man says, his voice a low drawl and as soft as silk. he stares into louis' cerulean eyes, expecting a reply.

"y- yeah..." louis says, a tad too quiet but not inaudible to the man.

louis just stands there and takes in the man's captivating appearance once again.

the drop dead gorgeous man takes a seat in the opposite bench and sits down. and maybe, just maybe, he admires what louis is like.

certainly not, louis can't possibly think that this angel disguised as a human is admiring him. he almost slaps himself.

"i'm harry," he takes his hand out and waits for louis to shake it. but louis couldn't get himself to do anything, standing there dumbfounded by how ravishing this man that sits before him is.

"what's your name?" the man asks, withdrawing his hand, interest hidden beneath his voice.

"single," louis mumbles by accident, praying to the lord that harry fails to articulate what just came out of his stupid treacherous mouth.

"what's that?" harry asks, eyebrows furrowed.

"i mean, i'm louis. with an 's', but it's silent. it's french, i think? i don't know, my mom named me. obviously. i mean, well, not obviously, i mean i could've been adopted and renamed or something, but i'm pretty sure i'm not. unless my mom was lying to me... i have to ask her about that. so yeah, it's lou-ee, not lewis– i'm rambling aren't i?" louis gnaws on his lips as he mentally curses to himself. why does he have to ramble so much?

"well you are certainly the talker, aren't you louis?" the man smiles, amusement evident in his voice. are those dimples on his cheeks? louis swears this man couldn't be any more beautiful than this.

"yeah i kind of ramble a little. a lot, actually. depends on the situation. you know what i mean?"

"yeah. i know what you mean." harry smiles reassuringly.

after a brief moment of silence, harry stands up and prepares to leave. "i best be going then, don't wanna disappoint my guests now, do i?" he inquires, it was a rhetorical question, and gives louis a small smile before turning away.

louis finally breathes after what felt like hours and starts mentally smacking his head.

"oh, and louis, i'm not a squirrel." and just like that, he walks away and vanishes into the gloomy night.

oh. so it was harry who was watching him earlier.

how weird and pleasant, louis thinks to himself. but it's better than kidnappers and ghosts, right?

definitely.